The Takeover

Summary: A young prince's life is turned upside down as an ambitious nobleman's plot comes to fruition. Short story.

The Takeover

For a midwinter’s evening, the night was unusually warm.

Anderson put it down to the northerly wind. Members of the
mage community often stated the wind from the north carried warmth with it, not
that Anderson could see; but then the mages often knew more about these matters
than he did. He had a different focus; running his kingdom, and bringing it out
of the dark days in which it found itself.

He ran a hand through his brown hair as he reflected. The
years had not been kind to the kingdom of Relghem. The poor harvests of the
past couple of years had left the realm low on cash, with freeholders and the
king’s farms alike being unable to pay their taxes. Relghem had been greatly
reliant on trade with their neighbours, Albernor and Tyrenia, to avoid running
out of money in the royal coffers, and Anderson knew they needed many good
farming years to bring the kingdom back on track.

But he had more immediate problems; peasants in the south
were taking up arms again, angry at the poor harvests and heavy taxes levied by
the barons. Anderson knew the region also held separatists, fighters who wished
to carve their own kingdom out of the heart of southern Relghem, and he knew he
could not allow that to happen.

An arriving messenger bought the king out of his
contemplation. Accepting the message with a nod, Anderson unfurled the parchment
and quickly scanned it.

It was a report of another speech by Lord Roydon against his
enemies in the Council of Nobles. Anderson knew the Lord had a number of bitter
rivals in the council, but had somehow gained access to information of many of
them which was potentially compromising; at least, that was how his spymaster
had described it. Anderson quickly grew weary of such speeches and seldom
listened to them, instead preferring the solitude of his royal study when
dealing with matters of state.

The king had reigned for only five years. Upon the death of
his father Brend, Anderson had ascended the throne at the age of thirty-six;
older than many kings at their coronation, but with the benefit of many years
of study at his father’s side before having to take the reins himself.
Unfortunately, although his father had been very popular with many of the
nobles of the kingdom, Anderson himself was not, and his support in the council
was thin. Anderson knew he had to bring fortune back to the kingdom again, and
soon, or his relationship with many of the nobles may not be repairable.

He sighed, crumpled the parchment, and tossed it aside.

Lord Roydon was becoming a threat; with both his natural
popularity among the other nobles and the notable defeats of his rivals in
council, he was effectively the most powerful lord in the kingdom after the
king himself. Anderson would have to find some way to undercut his power base,
or bind his loyalty to the throne; otherwise, Roydon might get serious ideas
about taking the throne for himself.

Civil war had occurred in the past; Relghem itself has been
born out of rebellion, and dukes and earls had fought each other when a royal
bloodline had died with no heir, but a noble-backed rebellion against an
incumbent king was very uncommon.

Anderson realised had not heard the messenger leave. He was
still in the room.

“What else is there?” he asked, turning, and froze, as he
saw the young blond-haired messenger in the process of quietly drawing a dagger
from his belt.

With a snarl, the messenger lunged at the king, who threw
himself to the side. Landing sprawled on the floor, the king struggled to his
feet, as the messenger lunged at him again.

Anderson had no weapon, but had been trained in unarmed
combat, and dodged to his left as the assassin swung at him. The king, only dressed
in his nightclothes, saw his chance and struck swiftly under the messenger’s
jaw. The assassin collapsed unconscious, and Anderson took a moment to appraise
his attacker.

Bertie was the man’s name; a young lad and squire to the
king’s court. Anderson had known him for many years, ever since he was a small
boy on his first visit to the castle. He struggled to understand how someone
like Bertie could have attempted to take his life.

Bending down to examine the dagger in Bertie’s hand, Anderson
felt a chill go down his spine as he recognised the coat of arms set into the
hilt. It was the four unicorn crest of the current Earl of the Southlands, the
very man who Anderson had just been musing over; Lord Roydon.

“Guards! Guards!” he yelled, knowing his personal guards
were only an instant away and yet had failed to prevent this assassin from
entering his presence.

A moment later, the two black-haired guardsmen entered the
room. Picked from the best of the noble retainers of the kingdom, they were tall,
muscular men, heavily armed in steel breastplates and carrying wicked-looking
halberds. They stopped at the sight of the unconscious messenger on the floor
of the king’s study.

“Remove him from this room and lock him in the dungeon,”
ordered Anderson. “And be sure to thoroughly search any more messengers! I will
get to the bottom of this attack.”

But the guards did not move. They simply looked at each
other. One of them, who the king knew as Sir Gerald, spoke up first.

“I told you it was a mistake. He was just a boy!”

“It would have made our job easier,” spoke the other, whom
the king did not recognise. Sir Gerald turned to the king and spoke again.

“I am afraid, my lord, that you will be coming with us.
Please come quietly, otherwise this may get… messy.”

Evil grins spread over the faces of both of the guards, and
a final, almighty chill ran up the king’s spine. The assassin was not the only
danger now.

The two guards were taller than he and better armed, so
defending himself was out of the question here. Anderson attempted to dash past
them to the door, but the other guard grabbed his arm.

Sir Gerald struck the king in the face with a mailed fist,
and he slumped to the floor.

Anderson heard Sir Gerald’s voice cry “The king is overcome!
Make way for the king!” and he felt himself being picked up and carried out of
the room, as blackness took him.

Grey disliked books.

His father insisted on him reading lots of books. Books
contained wisdom, he frequently said. Books contain the words of those who have
come before, who have experienced great wonders and terrible tragedies. Books
are the surest way to understanding how the world works.

Sometimes Grey believed his father could not think of
anything else but books.

The only books Grey was interested in were the epic sagas.
The tales of great heroes and vicious villains, of epic quests and intense
battles, of champions who saved the day and defeated whatever great evil
threatened the world; they were Grey’s favourites. Sometimes he could imagine
himself as Lord Varic, defeating the great black wyrm Skorngar in the Greymurk
swamp, or one of the Champions of Relghem as they vanquished the mighty Shadow
and turned back his hobgoblin hordes. They had experienced adventure after
adventure, whereas Grey could only look at the same four walls of his bedroom.
And read books.

Raven-haired and blue-eyed, like his mother, Grey had had a
craving for adventure since he was very young, but being the king’s fourteen-year-old
son and heir to the throne gave him responsibilities he did not want. Often he
wished for a chance to get outside the walls of the castle to explore the
world, and regularly practiced his swordplay just in case that chance came
along. But it never did; just more and more of those infernal books.

He raised his head as he heard a crash outside, and shouting
voices.

Grey put his book down and was about to head to the door,
when it burst open and in came one of the king’s personal guard, sword drawn.
Seeing Grey, the black-haired guard moved and grabbed the young prince by the
arm.

“You are coming with me, boy. Now!” he said.

Grey had the feeling that something was not right and
struggled, but the guard’s grip was like iron, and he found himself hauled into
the corridor outside. He could hear more shouts echoing through the castle, and
the clatter of clashing swords. The guard dragged him down the stairs into the
deeper levels, and Grey realised where they were going; the dungeon. He fought
harder against the guard, but the guard put his sword against the boy’s neck.

“Stop struggling now or you’ll lose your head. Got it?”

Grey stopped struggling, and the guard bought him down to
the cells.

He had never been in this part of the castle before, but he
knew this was where father had imprisoned those who had committed crimes of
sorts, very serious ones. Dug partly out of the bedrock, it resembled a cave
more than a dungeon. It smelt awful and Grey could hear water dripping
somewhere.

They came to a series of cells, small rooms with rough
wooden doors inset with barred windows. The guard bought Grey to one of the
rooms and fumbled at his belt for what sounded like keys.

Grey saw his chance. He smacked the guard as hard as he
could in the face.

Distracted with unlocking the door, the guard caught the
blow on the side of his head. Staggering with the blow he let go of Grey, who
dashed off into the tunnels as fast as he could go.

He could hear the guard sprinting after him, swearing loudly
and yelling at him to stop, but Grey would not stop. He knew that once he was in
that cell he had no hope. He had to find his father and find out what was going
on.

Fear driving him on, Grey ran through the tunnels of the
dungeon for several minutes, before having to stop to catch his breath. Hearing
nothing behind him, he realised he had lost the guard, but looking around at
the maze of tunnels, he could not remember the route he had taken to get here.

His father had not mentioned all the tunnels that were down
here. Nobody had, he thought sadly. He may have escaped the guard’s clutches
only to get lost down here.

Grey shook himself and gathered his resolve to find his way
out. Trying to get his bearings, he attempted to retrace his steps in the near
darkness. Irregular torches along the walls gave a poor light to the tunnels,
and many times he stumbled as he felt his way.

Turning a corner, Grey saw a light and heard voices from up
ahead. He recognised one of the voices as the guard who had pursued him.

“Nah, the runt got away,” he was saying. “But these tunnels
are extensive apparently; chances are he’ll get lost in there and never come
out”.

“But you can’t be sure of that,” said the other man in a
raspy voice. “He will ruin my plans if he survives to escape. Make sure he is
dead, and do not return without his head.”

Grey heard heavy footsteps moving away as the guard cursed
under his breath.

“Come out you runt! Before I get really angry and drag you
out of there!” the guard called loudly, his angry voice echoing through the
tunnels as he began his hunt.

Grey jumped as a groan from nearby broke the eerie silence.
Had it come from a nearby tunnel?

He reached an intersection and looked left and right to see
where it had come from. Down the tunnel to his right a torch illuminated a cell
door.

The groan came again; Grey could tell it came from the cell.
He knew he had to escape while he could, but a part of him wanted to know who
else was down here, and he set off down the corridor towards the cell. Grabbing
the torch off the wall and looking in through the bars, Grey gasped aloud as he
saw the occupant of the cell, shackled to the wall with iron chains.

It was his father.

The man’s brown hair was dishevelled and his face was
bloody, but he still wore the robes of the king of Relghem. Grey could not
believe his father was chained here in this cell. What was happening above
them?

He intended to find out. Grey tried the door, but it was
locked. And he had an idea who had the key.

The guard’s voice was still echoing through the tunnels.
Grey needed a plan to take him down and get the key, but the guard had his
sword and the young prince was unarmed. He would need to come up with something
crafty, and he had thought of something that just might work.

The guard continued to hunt through the tunnels.“I know you’re here, runt! Come out now and I won’t kill
you!”

He heard the scuff of a boot from nearby. As he came to an
intersection, the guard was sure it had come from the left-hand tunnel.

But when he turned down the tunnel, there was nothing there.
The flickering torch light didn’t help, he thought.

“Argh!” cried the guard, clutching at his face. His sword
clattered at it hit the stone floor.

As quick as he could, Grey grabbed the sword and smashed its
hilt into the guard’s jaw. His eyes rolled up in his head and he fell backwards
on the floor with a thud.

Grey took a few seconds to compose himself. His pulse was
racing and his breath came in gasps. This isn’t as easy as it is in the
stories, he thought. But his plan had worked, at least. He searched the guard
for his keys and found them, unlatching them from his belt. Carrying the sword
in his other hand, he returned to his father’s cell.

There were a lot of keys on the key ring. Grey had to try a
few in the lock before one managed to fit. The door opened noisily. His father
stirred at the sound, groaning.

“Father, it’s me, Grey,” he said on entering the cell. One
of the keys had to fit the shackles.

“Grey?” his father asked, groggily. “Grey, is that you?”

“It’s me, father,” he replied. “I’m here to get you out of
this cell.”

“Oh, my head hurts. What’s happening?”

Grey found a key which fit the shackles. Unlocking them, he
took them off his father before examining him. Grey found a large lump on his
head, probably the blow of a gauntlet or sword hilt. He hoped his father would
be okay, but he might have to help him out of here.

“It’s time to get out of here, father,” he said.
“Something’s happening up in the castle above us. The guards are after us.”

“Guards…” mumbled Anderson. “Working for… Lord Roydon…”

As Grey helped his father out of the cell, he felt a chill
go up his spine. He remembered his father telling him about Lord Roydon’s
recent rise to influence of the Council of Nobles. Was Roydon behind this? Was
he trying to seize the throne so openly?

“Easy, father,” he reassured him. “We’ll get out of here
soon enough.”

“Where are we?” asked his father. He was starting to sound a
bit more lucid.

“The dungeon, I think,” supplied Grey.

Anderson grunted as Grey helped him through the tunnels.

“Grey, I don’t think we can go back through the castle,” his
father said after a while. “I believe Roydon has changed all my guards for his
men by now. Going back through the castle itself is too dangerous.”

“But it’s our only way out of here!” replied Grey. “We can’t
stay down here forever, and Roydon knows that!”

His father smiled in response. “Ah, but it’s not the only
way out of here.”

“I-it isn’t?” said Grey, surprised.

“No. One of your ancestors dug a tunnel from here out
beneath the castle into the city,” Anderson explained. “It was intended to be
an escape tunnel in case the castle was besieged. It’s probably a hundred years
old now, and it’s never been used.”

Grey was elated. They had a way out after all! If they could
find it.

“Do you know where it is?” he asked his father.

“I do. Just let me get my bearings for a second. It should
be… just down here.”

They turned down a tunnel. It was a dead end.

“Are you sure this is the way, father?” asked Grey. “It’s
just an empty corridor.”

“See that empty torch bracket there?” replied his father,
pointing to a bracket about halfway down the corridor. “It should have a mark
inscribed above it.”

They approached the bracket. Sure enough, etched into the
rock just above it was the symbol of a lion. The animal on Relghem’s coat of
arms.

“Now, I should be able to twist it, like so,” Anderson said,
reaching out to the bracket. He turned it ninety degrees to the right, and
pulled down.

With a dull click, and loud screech of rusted hinges, part
of the wall swung open. Behind it was a rough rocky corridor. It smelled musty
and damp.

His father was standing on his own now. He looked unsteady,
but he was managing at least to stand himself.

“Here we are,” he said. “Let’s go. We must be quick, before
they come back down here.”

“Wait a second,” said Grey. “We can’t leave yet. What about
mother? And the girls?”

His father’s face hardened. “We must go, son. While we can.
We cannot go back for them.”

Grey couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Are you mad, father? We can’t just leave them behind!”

“Listen to me very carefully, my son,” Anderson said
sternly. “I am the rightful king of this realm. You are my son and heir to the
throne. Our lives are far more valuable than theirs right now. We can escape
through here and head north to lords loyal to us. With them, we can raise an
army and return here to retake the castle. People will flock to us once they
hear of the usurper Roydon. But if we are dead, if we don’t make it out of here
alive, that leadership dies with us. Lord Roydon will have the crown. This
tunnel is our only chance.”

“But… but we can’t just leave them!” said Grey, feeling
tears well in his eyes. “They are our family!”

“I know that, son,” replied his father. Grey could hear the
sadness in his voice. “I would do anything to rescue your mother and my daughters.
But we cannot help them now. Sometimes we have to make decisions where even the
best choice is a losing one. Right now, the kingdom depends on us keeping our
lives.”

Grey could not accept the cold logic of his father’s
argument. He would not let his mother and sisters be trapped here in this
prison of a castle. No matter how important his future was, he wouldn’t leave
them here.

“I’m going back for them, father,” Grey said. “I will not
leave them behind. I have made up my mind.”

His father let out a deep sigh.

“Go quickly then, Grey. I shall wait here for you. But be
quick! And careful!”

Grey nodded and returned to the maze of tunnels, looking for
the route to the stairs.

Grey hid in the shadow of the doorway as the two guards went
past.

They were openly wearing tabards with Roydon’s coat of arms
on them. Grey felt anger build inside him at the sight. Acting as if Roydon was
already king!

Perhaps he was. Grey accepted the castle was lost, but
still, he wouldn’t leave yet.

He had left the torch behind after he returned to the
corridors of the castle. His mother and sisters had their rooms just across the
corridor from here, but there were so many guards about!

Grey had to be patient. He just needed a moment to get to
the door. He watched the two guards as they continued their patrol down the
corridor, turning a corner out of sight.

Quickly he leapt to the door. The handle turned. He darted
through the doorway, quickly closing it behind him.

“No,” she replied. “They promised we wouldn’t get hurt if we
stayed in here. Roydon was with them. Oh Grey, is your father alright? Have you
seen him?”

“Yes” said Grey. “He’s down by the secret tunnel in the
dungeon. He’s waiting for us. We’d better get out of here quickly before Roydon
comes back.”

His mother nodded, and told the girls they needed to be very
quiet until she said otherwise. The brown-haired girls, still terrified, simply
nodded.

Grey moved to open the door, when he heard voices just
outside.

“Be on the lookout for the boy,” one was saying. “Sir
Patrick lost him down in the dungeon. He could be anywhere in the castle by
now.”

The voices faded. They must have been moving down the
corridor.

Grey opened the door slowly and quietly. He put his head out
into the corridor, looking in both directions. The coast was clear.

“Quick, before they come back,” he said, ushering them out
the door.

They crossed the corridor, moving into the room Grey had
come from originally. He closed the door behind him, just as he heard the
voices approaching again.

“Mother,” he asked. “Why was Roydon here? What did he want?”

His mother shuddered as she answered.

“He asked for my hand. He spoke of how my husband had been
imprisoned and how I had to become his wife in exchange for Anderson’s freedom.
The bastard. But he said he would be back, that he wouldn’t take no for an
answer.”

“Let’s make sure he never gets to ask that again,” said
Grey. “This way. We need to get to the stairs to the dungeon.”

The castle was crawling with Roydon’s men. Somehow Grey
managed to get his family down into the dungeon without being seen. But there
had been plenty of close calls. If even one guard had seen him, the alarm would
have been sounded. They must still think he was loose somewhere else in the castle.

His father was still waiting down by the escape tunnel.

“Anderson!” said Grey’s mother, embracing her husband. “I
was so worried! Are you injured?”

“A bump on the head is all,” replied his father. “But we
need to move quickly, before we’re discovered.”

None of them needed to think any more about that prospect.
They dashed into the passage, Grey’s father leading the way, followed by his
mother and two sisters, with Grey bringing up the rear.

Anderson had shown him a catch on the other side of the
secret door which could close it from that side. Pulling it, he watched it
close with a screech and a thud.

He was struck by the finality of the door closing. It was
like a door was closing on his old life. All he knew had been behind that door,
and now it was sealed to him.

“Grey, come on,” urged his father. “We must hurry!”

Grey complied, leaving his old life behind. He was not the
only one to give the door a second glance as they hurried through the
rough-hewn tunnel.

The tunnel led to the basement of a house in the city.
Grey’s father told him it was a derelict building, an old uninhabited structure
no one would give a second glance to. The perfect place to slip out of the
castle unnoticed, Grey presumed.

At the end of the tunnel a wooden trapdoor blocked the way
forward. Anderson poked at it carefully.

“There should be a gap here to open the latch from this
side… there it is!”

There was a click from above. His father pushed the trapdoor
open with little effort. That’s when Grey noticed how the trapdoor seemed in
surprisingly good condition, for such an old escape tunnel.

His father seemed to guess his thoughts. “We had it replaced
last year when we found out about the tunnel,” he supplied. “Just in case.”

“It was a good decision, sire,” a voice called from the room
above.

They froze. This place wasn’t so uninhabited after all.

“Who’s there?” Grey shouted.

A blond man with a thick beard came into view above them,
wearing heavy armour and carrying a battleaxe. His father recognised the crest
on his armour.

“Lord Rowberry! I thought I recognised your voice. But what
are you doing here?”

Rowberry smiled and offered an arm to the king, who
gratefully accepted. They climbed out of the escape tunnel.

Grey examined his surroundings. Nobody had obviously lived
here for many years. There was dust everywhere, and that musty smell still
lingered.

“I knew what had happened in the castle, sire,” explained
Rowberry. “Once I overheard the guards mention Grey here might be loose, I
figured you might try to escape through the tunnel, so I came here.”

“Not good, your majesty,” he said. “Roydon has taken the
castle. He had somehow slipped in his own men past your guards and overpowered
them. He’s holding many of the lords as hostages in the council chamber.”

“He has the lords of the council as well?” Anderson asked,
alarmed.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty. He’s given them an ultimatum
to accept him as king or be executed. I was lucky I managed to slip away before
his men seized the council chamber.”

Anderson frowned. Grey knew his father had been counting on
the support of those lords.

“You know what we must do now, my king,” said Rowberry.

“Is there truly nothing we can do?” asked Anderson. Rowberry
shook his head.

“All the lords present had only bodyguards, as dictated by
custom, whereas Roydon has a significant force here. The day is his, your
majesty. Lord Roydon’s takeover is complete and comprehensive.”

Grey’s father looked downcast.

“So, what do we do now?” Grey asked Rowberry.

“We survive,” supplied his father. “We shall have to leave
here at once. I have a cousin in Tyrenia who I can trust. We must go there.”

Grey was shocked. Leave the kingdom? Was his father mad?

“Why Tyrenia?” he asked. “Why can’t we stay in Relghem?”

“Roydon is effectively king now, Grey,” his mother said
patiently. “He will coerce the lords into ratifying him, and then this country
will no longer be safe for us. We must find asylum across the border.”

Grey was stunned. He felt so powerless. He wanted to fight
back, to defeat Roydon and reclaim the castle and the kingdom for his father
and family. For him to simply do nothing and leave it all behind…

“We must pick our battles, son,” his father said quietly.
“And we cannot do that if we die in a pointless blaze of glory.”

Rowberry nodded. “It is the most prudent course of action
from here, sire. I am with you.”

Grey smiled at that. Rowberry was a talented swordsman and
tactician. Having him along would be a significant asset.

“We had better hurry, your majesty,” urged Rowberry. “The
more we delay, the more chance Roydon will search the city for you.”

“Then let’s go,” replied Anderson.

It took them nearly three long weeks of cautious travel to
finally reach the border. They had avoided the main garrisons along the trade
routes to the north, instead travelling through the foothills along the border
until they had crossed into the plains of southern Tyrenia.

Grey’s anger had settled into a seething hatred. He could
not let the insult to his family go. Roydon’s ambition had cost Grey his future
and his family’s future.

Taking one look back at the lands of Relghem behind him, the
only place he had known in his fourteen years, Grey resolved to return. One day
he would come back to the land of his birth and claim the throne that belonged
to him and his family.

One day, he would recover his birthright.

Write a Review
Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
shadowfirephoenix

Aki Trilee:
This is one of the best books I've ever read. The author tells a story about a girl who goes through so much stress but able to find true love. Beautifully written, very emotional and romantic. I ended up staying up until three in the morning so I could keep reading. FLAWLESS!

Lea Belaj:
This book is amazing❤ I actually read the second book first, since I didn't know that this one existed. And I loved the second book so much I had to read this one. I really liked the plot and characters, especially Eliana and Oriens.❤

N_F_G:
This story was fantastic! It was really enjoyable, and the characters and locations felt real to me as I read the story! Celeste was an amazing character, who survived all her struggles, and I felt the author did an excellent job writing about suicide and self harm- in a sensitive, authentic mann...

Alkira Joan:
Great story, I found it hard to read especially the dialogue. You just need to fix up some spelling errors and the gramma .I enjoyed this book. was a little hard to get though.,.,..,.,.,,..,.,.,, , , , ,.,, , , , , , , ,., ,,.,,,,,

Warren Bull:
I thought this was a fast=paced thriller with elements of several other genres woven seamlessly in. It hooked me early and held my attention throughout. I liked the humor and surprises along the way. I really enjoyed the novel. I am not a big fan of romances or paranormal works,but when those ele...

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